


Promise Me You'll Be There

by sifuhotman



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26116999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sifuhotman/pseuds/sifuhotman
Summary: It's graduation day, and Hinata and Kageyama's last chance to say goodbye.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	Promise Me You'll Be There

_I’m here_.

The words echo in Tobio’s mind with every dribble of the ball on gymnasium floor. The air here smells different. None of the salty sweat or the icy-hot spray, or the thick laughter and outbursts of scolding that he’s grown accustomed to over the past three years. This time, in the court, Tobio stands, alone.

Tobio spins the volleyball in his hand. Three years, he stood here, Karasuno Gymnasium 2, hoping for a chance to shed his middle school self and grow into someone new. The end of an era. Maybe the beginning of another one. Tobio’s always been driven towards the future, wherever volleyball would take him, so it perplexes him how he could possibly so attached to the past.

Tobio takes a deep breath in, then expertly tosses the ball up in the air. He’s done this same motion a million times, the same running approach, the same perfectly timed arch backwards as he jumps up, arm raised at its peak—yet the exhilaration of serving is enough to clear his mind of the ache in his chest that hasn’t loosened its hold. The heavy _bam_ of the ball against his palm and the reflexive curve of his lips.

 _That felt good_ , he thinks to himself, ball hurtling straight towards the back-left corner, and then—

Tobio’s eye twitches at the burst of movement, and before he knows it, an orange-haired, giddy presence fills the court with a neat bump.

Tobio lands on his feet, gazing through the net at the wide-eyed smile that dances across Hinata’s lips. He straightens up and tilts his head to the side. “You’re here, too, huh?”

“Pretty sure you said something like that to me the first time you came waltzing in here. Dumbass.”

“It’s incredible that after three years, you still haven’t come up with a better insult.”

“Shut up.”

Hinata grins. “That’s not the way you should talk to someone who went out of their way to check on you.”

Tobio reaches for another ball. “Huh?”

“Tsukishima had this stupid smirk on his face, and when I asked him why he looked happy for once, he said it’s because he saw you crying.”

Geh. Of course Tsukishima would notice. Of _course_ he’d be amused. “I’m _not_ crying.”

“Pretty sure he saw you crying.”

“Shut _up_ , moron.” Tobio swats another one over, and Hinata bumps that one, too, with ease. He’s no libero, but when Tobio thinks about the first time he served to Hinata in this place—the time Hinata’s receives were so shitty that it sent the principal’s toupee flying—he can’t help but smile.

"'Sokay. I cried, too." Hinata sighs. "How could you not right?" He glances over at Tobio as he picks up another ball. "So. V. League, huh?”

Tobio nods. He knew he’d be going pro as soon as volleyball was over. He never had the intention nor the brains to study for university exams, anyway.

“That’s cool.”

Tobio pauses. “You could probably go pro, too, you know.” He doesn’t add that Hinata, at his current state, would probably only qualify for Division 3. Hinata has made huge strides during their three years at Karasuno, but the fact is that to compete with six-foot-plus power players, Hinata has to be more than just _good_. “If you wanted.”

Hinata shakes his head as he bumps another of Tobio’s serves, sending it spinning in a high, lazy arc. “There’s so much I have to learn.” Hinata watches the ball drop to the ground, and Tobio can’t help gazing. Since that first match in middle school, Tobio knew there was _something_ about Hinata. It wasn’t just his athletic ability or his reflexes, or his speed or his jumps. "I mean, _need_. So much I need to learn."

Hinata’s weapon is something entirely different.

“I told you I’d stand on the same court as you,” Hinata continues. “Remember that?” Of course he does. How could he forget? Back when Hinata had declared that, he couldn’t even receive balls properly or consistently aim where his hits were going to land. But Tobio never doubted him once. Not even when they were in middle school, when Hinata declared that he’d win the game despite the overwhelming anxiety-ridden stomach pain he couldn’t avoid.

Even though Hinata was a klutzy piece of shit who just happened to be fast, since day one, Tobio hasn’t discredited Hinata for his abilities—abilities that, if considered properly, would take him far. “I have every intention of doing just that.”

“Even if it’s the world summit?”

“ _Especially_ if it’s the world summit.”

Tobio’s heart pangs again. He thinks about all the moments—the moment Daichi kicked them out of the club, the moment Tanaka arrived with the keys. The moment they nailed their first blind-quick, their first normal-quick, their first falling-toss-quick. Volleyball had become everything that Tobio thinks and dreams about, yet somehow, Hinata had wormed his way into that.

Tobio doesn’t say that, but he has full faith that Hinata will meet him there. The Japan summit, the world summit, maybe even the entire Milky Way.

He needs Hinata to meet him there. He can’t explain why, but Kageyama Tobio has always had trouble explaining anything about Hinata.

“You’d better catch up then. I’m not waiting around for you.”

“Spoken like a true king.”

“The longer I’m pro, the better I get. You’ll have a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah.” Hinata bounces one of the balls on the ground. “But that’s nothing new for me, right? You’ve always been the king of the court. What’s higher than a king? A god?”

“Stop calling me king.” It’s halfhearted, even to him.

“You’ll always be a king to me.” A beat. “And I’ll beat you.” Hinata hits the ball over the net, right to Tobio. “Just you wait.”

Tobio bumps it, sending it flying back over the net. They pass like that in silence, and no matter how hard Tobio tries to keep his thoughts from wandering, he can’t. Because this is the last time. And because the thing is, Hinata isn’t just a volleyball partner to him. He’s his rival, sure, and he’s an annoying asshat most of the time. Tobio can’t quite articulate the deep respect and trust that’s grown between him and Hinata, and part of him, perhaps, is afraid to.

It’s hard for Tobio to separate the image of a volleyball from Hinata. Every time he sets, he’s had Hinata running up, flying, and calling for the toss. Even the times where Tobio has no intention of setting to him, those first words of their partnership ring in his ears and tempt him every time.

_I’m here!_

At first, it was easy to dismiss it as a hunger for winning. It was easy to just recognize Hinata as another spiker he can use to win a game, another pawn in his chessboard of the 25-point sets they play against other teams destined to lose.

Hinata isn’t _just_ a pawn. Tobio knows that’s what Hinata thinks he is: a commoner under the rule of a king of the court.

Tobio knows Hinata doesn’t recognize the fact that Tobio is under _his_ rule, and not the other way around.

“I look forward to that,” Tobio finally responds.

Hinata cocks his head and blinks. “To me beating you?”

“No.” Tobio bumps the ball back, and Hinata sets it over the net in a long arc. “To you standing on the same court as me. Because you won't beat me. I'll win every time.”

Hinata stills, which is so unlike him. He’s a raw ball of energy, one that’s always sprinting as if his life depends on it, and Tobio has no choice but to keep up unless he wishes to fall behind. They’ve always been neck and neck with each other like that, but this time is different.

This time, they’re not running in the same direction. Tobio is running to V. League, Division 1. Hinata is running…well, he’s going to be running to Brazil. _Literally_ the opposite side of the globe.

 _And he won’t be here_.

He won’t be wherever Kageyama is, ready to receive his toss. The toss that had come to define the pinnacle of their relationship, even though maybe, just maybe, Tobio wanted there to be more. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it—he’d definitely thought about _it_. They only started to hang out outside of the volleyball court during their second year, and each time expanded that hole in Kageyema’s being that only Hinata had come to fill.

“ _Kah. Geh. Yah. Mah._ ”

Hinata’s bright voice breaks through Tobio’s thoughts as a ball falls to the ground in front of him.

“Geez, you’re out of it today. Too busy crying?”

“Shut up.” Tobio can feel Hinata’s eyes burrowing into him. The same eyes that declared, _well, I haven’t lost yet?_

Tobio spikes the ball at him, but to his surprise, Hinata doesn’t bother chasing after it. Hinata’s eyes are fully fixed on him, like he’s trying to unravel ever millisecond of Tobio’s existence to fit into a puzzle. Tobio has begun to notice that look more and more, and even though he knows he should be on guard around it, he doesn’t. Despite the panic boiling under his skin from being examined so closely, Tobio can’t help but feel comforted by that intense stare.

"I just said," Hinata says, "that the first time I stepped in here, I had one goal in my mind.”

Tobio listens.

“To get stronger. Like you told me.”

“Only the strongest stay on the court,” Tobio says, echoing his fourteen-year-old, cocky self, but it comes out more like a whisper than a declaration.

“Yeah. I’m not at my strongest yet.” Hinata’s eyes glimmer as he steps around the net. “Neither are you. So challenging you won’t mean anything until you’re at your strongest.”

Tobio swallows thickly. He won’t say it out loud, but Hinata’s right: the past three years, he’s leaned heavily on Hinata. To inspire him, to be available for any toss, to work around any obstacles that loom in their way. As long as Tobio is around, Hinata is the strongest, but it goes both ways: as long as Hinata’s around, Tobio is the strongest.

Now, Tobio supposes, it’s the time where they must learn to be strong on their own.

Hinata treads over to Tobio. He’s taller than he was in middle school, but then again, so is Tobio, so the difference is still virtually the same. His skin glows in the golden hour sunlight creeping in through the windows above them, and there’s no laughter in his eyes as he says, “I’m not interested in defeating you unless you’re stronger, too, Kageyama.”

Tobio glances away. “The next time you see me, I won’t be the same. Dumbass.”

Hinata holds a volleyball up in front of Tobio. When did he get so close?

_When did standing close not feel like close enough?_

“Bakageyama. Gimme a toss.”

Tobio stands by the net as Hinata flings it to him, running straight up to the net. Hinata’s arms swish back and Tobio swears he can see wings sprouting from the edges of his fingertips along the curve of his shoulders. _He’s here_. And he’s flying.

Tobio raises his as his fingers anticipate the feel of the volleyball falling against them, begging to be set.

He’s here, and then he won’t be.

 _But that doesn’t matter._ Because he’ll be back.

Right?

His fingers reach for the ball before his thoughts do, setting the ball at the precise angle and timing that Hinata had grown to expect. The ball comes. It spins. It stops. And Hinata swats it down without a second thought, and the only sound echoing in the air is the ball _swooshing_ past the net and slapping against the ground.

“Hinata.”

Tobio’s voice falters. He didn’t even mean to say Hinata’s name; it slipped from his lips as impulsively as all the tosses he’s sent over Hinata’s way over the years.

“What?’

A confession of sorts perches itself on his lips. All the unspoken moments of them napping next to each other on the bus ride home from tournaments. All the times they spent rallying the ball back and forth during lunch breaks, the meat buns they shared after practice. The heartbreak they shared over crushing defeats, and the screams of amazement when they stole back points, one by one.

“Um…”

Hinata blinks, head tilting to the side. His face is as open and honest as its ever been, and the deep pang.

“You promise me you’ll be there?”

Hinata’s eyes don’t leave Tobio for a moment. “When have I ever made a promise I wouldn’t keep?” he says.

Tobio’s lips curl up. He snags another ball, tosses it up high, and as it’s waiting for him to set it, Hinata springs into action, no words needed.

The ball hits the ground faster than the past three years flew bye. Hinata strolls over and picks up his jacket and his diploma.

“You’ll always be the first setter I recognized as my partner,” Hinata says after a moment of silent. Tobio’s heart skips a beat. “Don’t forget that when you’re setting to people better than me.”

“I could never.”

Hinata’s face splits into that sunshine grin, blinding and hypnotizing, and Tobio promises, just this once, that he’ll never forget it.

“See ya later, Kageyama!”

“Yeah.” A soft smile traces its way across Tobio’s face—it’s not just a goodbye. It’s a promise—a promise that the ringing words of _I’m here_ will reach him again, no matter how far into the future or how far across the globe Hinata finds himself. “See you later.”


End file.
